


The Night You Battled Frost Giants With John Oliver

by WileyWendyMoore



Category: Last Week Tonight With John Oliver (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WileyWendyMoore/pseuds/WileyWendyMoore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friend's brother jokingly requested a choose-your-own-adventure style fic with John Oliver after seeing Midori12's sweet fic. Turns out, I take jokes VERY seriously! Nothing but fun and victory here!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night You Battled Frost Giants With John Oliver

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schuyler Colfax](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Schuyler+Colfax).
  * Inspired by [The Snowy Night You Met John Oliver](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/121341) by Midori12. 



You slam your laptop shut in triumph after hours of overtime.  Finally! the company’s website is looking sharp, and you’re looking at a sweet bonus.  You gather your things and don a heavy scarf, gloves and thick, cozy parka, as it’s been unreasonably cold this winter, even for the east coast.  With a friendly smile to the doorman, you step into the freezing air.  You’re not a block away from work when a man runs into you, jostled off balance by a bitter, icy gust of wind.

  “EXCUSE ME!  I’m so sorry, I’m in a terrible hurry…"  You help the man to his feet, and realize with no small delight that it’s John Oliver, professional swear-word sayer and host of Last Week Tonight!  There’s no time for fannish reaction, though, as you notice his somber expression. You ask John what’s up.  "The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration has discovered the cause of all these excessive storms,” He takes off his glasses to punctuate the urgency of the situation. “It’s Frost Giants.”  


  Your face falls in grim dismay.  It has been five thousand years since the titans first rose from their frigid underworld in an attempt to reign over Earth.  People had laughed at you for decrying “Frozen” as a dangerous portent of the coming tyranny.

  “People laughed at me for decrying ‘Frozen’ as a dangerous portent of the coming tyranny,” you solemnly tell John, and he nods. “I’m glad you ran into me.”

  He clasps your shoulders. “Then you can help!”

  “My heat vision was once a curse.  I touched a hot stove when I was five, ignoring all warnings of, 'No no.  Hot!  Burn baby!'  Instead of burning me, it filled me with the heat of ten suns, fifty volcanoes and a thousand hot plates.  My life has been lonely, but now, it will all have been worth it.”

  John is silent for a moment, struck speechless by your awesome origin story.  Then, from a sheath at his hip you only now notice, he draws a massive sword of pure white fire. It would be painful to look directly at it if you weren’t superhuman.

  “Then let us drive these arctic bastards back to the coldest depths of hell!"    


  John holds the sword aloft, and your eyes and fingers spark with embers as lightning strikes where you stand.  With a brilliant flash, you both are transported to Madison Square Garden.  The divine lightning has also given you the Sight with which to see the massive immortals you and John must defeat.  As your glowing eyes lock on one brute, it notices you as well and bellows to its brothers.  The call is like a thousand chill needles in your brain.  John sets his teeth on edge, then roars back mightily and leaps two hundred feet in the air.  He plunges his sword to the hilt in the giant’s throat, and the monster vaporizes into an icy mist with a rushing, crackling gurgle.  The sight is glorious and terrifying, but there are still four grotesques to be destroyed.

  You turn to face an ugly slab of animate ice lurching at you, jagged claws outstretched.  With a cry of rage, searing rays shoot from your eyes and carve the icicle claws down to nothing, the creature’s blocky body shattering into oblivion.

  The gutteral growl of another enraged monster echoes behind you, and you fix your thousand degree stare on a serpentine behemoth attempting to flank you and John.  Its face melts away, the rest following thanks to a deadly slash from the news wizard’s glowing sword.

  Before either of you can stop it, a frost-rimed foot lands heavily on John.  You bellow in furious sorrow, fire almost consuming your entire body.  Just as you leap at the giant’s beady, soulless eyes, the sword pierces upward, breaking the foot into a glittering cloud.

  "NOW YOU’VE GOT ME HOT UNDER THE COLLAR!” John flays the collapsing body as he rises, the head melting from your glare.  The frost giant splits in two and blows away in a wild gust of wind.  The air around you already feels less oppressive.

  “No time to chill just yet,” John calls. “Their overlord is closing in fast, and we need TO TURN UP THE HEAT!"  The blinding wind surrounding you begins to take the snowy shape of a massive, winged humanoid.  The wings stretch out, covering New York in a frigid shadow that threatens to plunge all life into eternal winter.  Fangs gnash in the demigod’s gaping mouth as it leans down to snarl at you.

  "FOCUS!” John shouts to you as the sword flashes brightly, and they become one, man transforming into a phoenix that easily soars above the frost giant’s wings.  With a deep, warm breath and a moment of concentration, you feel your body stretch out along the ground, thin but intense.  Only when you feel as if your fiery form is about to shudder out in the icy torrent do you look around.  John Oliver, ablaze in phoenix form above the frost giant leader, you, a pure inferno surrounding its heavy feet.  It begins to drip, and screams as it senses its doom.

  “IF YOU CAN’T STAND THE HEAT…” Phoenix John Oliver booms. “…STAY THE FUCK OUT OF NEW YORK!” you finish triumphantly.  Flames sandwich the unholy beast in a crushing blow, his furious howls dying away in the explosion of fire and ice.

  As the embers and snowflakes settle, you realize you are once again human, at least to the naked eye.  John, recovering a few feet away, looks his regular news show host self again.  You both stand and dust yourselves off, looking around to survey the damage.  Shockingly, New York seems fine.  It is cold, but not apocalyptically so.  The sky is clear and starry, the only sound your footsteps.

  “You okay?” John asks.  You nod, and he grins.  “Let’s get a beer.”

  You try to process what happened, what you just saw, on the walk to the bar.    


  “Man, I didn’t know you had fire powers!”

  John shrugs.  “It’s just something I’ve always been able to do.  In fact, until a few years ago, I would actually absorb heat from a room just by walking through it!  They’d call me, 'Heat Miser.’”

  You laugh, shaking your head.

  “John, you’re too much.”


End file.
